


let me

by samalambis



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: D/s, Dom!Anders, M/M, it sorta ends abrubtly but i was done with this peices existenc eon my computer, so just take it, sub!fenris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalambis/pseuds/samalambis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris doesn’t know how he ended up here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me

Fenris doesn’t know how he ended up here.  He _does_ , the events that occurred fresh as as the taint running through Anders’ blood gleaming in his mind, replaying, the words muddled and faces blurred as he found himself on his knees.  But as much as he does, he _doesn’t_.  His arms hung docilely at his sides, unarmed, itching to grip the hilt of a sword and _swing_.  He wanted to fight, body trembling and burning with the need to move, to leave this festering hole of a clinic in Darktown and forget this instance had ever took place.  His bottom lip swelled under the press of his teeth, hands fisted and his muscles tiring themselves from exertion at simply staying put.

****

The mage told him to stay still, voice warm and honey thick as it bathed over him in a gentle wave.  Softly spoken, barely above a whisper, but it echoed in Fenris’ mind.  Ignited his nerves and in an uneasy breath he fell to his knees without thought.  It was second nature, following orders such as that; had been drilled into his mind from his earliest memory.  The words should have enraged him, the abomination speaking to him as if he had authority, as if _anyone_ , had such authority over him yet here he found himself.  Waiting patiently, like a good _pet_ , for the mage to return.  As much as his bones ached to leave ( _perhaps let the templars know of the mage’s clinic_ ), his mind was lax with submission.  

****

Languid heat weighed him to the floor, trapping him under a need he hadn’t known sung to his core, burning brighter and louder than that of the lyrium etched into his flesh.  The tune begging him to surrender, soft and sweet and his mind spun under the lullaby.  Fear gripped him only for a moment that this was not of his own thoughts, but of the mage’s magic, playing his mind like a bards instrument.  Strumming him along and Fenris would have followed that trail of thought, chased it to denial and let it swallow him whole ( _do you see now, Hawke, the corruption this abomination brings?_ ) but just as he let himself sip the sweet honeyed wine of his own lies a soft brush of hand swept over his head in a light caress.

****

Long fingers ruffled his hair, sweeping it this way and that and Fenris shuddered under the gentle touch.  The tension which had lined his body fell away instantaneously, giving way to the soft exhale as he released his pride, face burning as he tilted his head into the mage’s hand.  He was rewarded with a light scrub, the fingers digging in before patting the mussed hair down and Fenris would deny the quiet moan of protest that slipped from him just as the mage’s hand left his head to sweep the curve of his face.  Finger pads delicately tracing the contours and dancing along the tips of his ear.  Each touch felt like fire on his skin, and maybe it _was_ , Fenris not putting it past the abomination to use such magic on him.

****

“Never thought I'd have you like this.”  A voice murmured quietly, the words rolling to the floor and stewing neon bright in Fenris’ mind.  He widened the stance of his legs, already achingly hard, and let his head chase the gentle brushes the mage seemed to give him with reverence.  As if the abomination thought he wouldn’t be here the next minute, or that this was all merely an intricate dream, the fade gifting the tired man a delusion he rarely let himself entertain during the day.  Fenris could only guess, his breath stuttering in his chest when the fingers grazed the curve of his lips.  The mage knelt before him, a calloused thumb rubbing along the line of his lower lip as fingers tilted his chin up, encouraging Fenris to look him in the eye.  The elf found he couldn’t, eyes lowered almost demurely to the ground as he began to tremble minutely.

****

Rough treatment, bruises and scratches and blood, thats what Fenris had been taught these moments entailed.  He could handle those with ease.  These gentle touches?  Tender and slow, _loving_ , if Fenris could call anything they do that; these were things he was not equipped for.  Made him feel open and exposed, his tongue tracing the path for words such as _hurry it along_ and _fuck off_ but air never giving it life.  The mage seemed patient enough, or perhaps he understood the troubles Fenris could not voice, as he let out a soft breath ( _a chuckle_ ), and lent away.

****

“I wonder if you’ll let me.”  His voice was almost inquisitive, murmured low and Fenris wondered what he meant, licking his lips and following the same pathway the mage’s thumb had just taken not moments earlier.  He heard the hitch of breath his action caused the abomination, and almost felt cheeky enough to do so again if not for the humming of lyrium singing his tattoos into a soft blue glow.  Fenris’ eyes snapped opened, alarm clenching his chest tight and he almost launched back from the magic the mage was summoning into his palm nearest the elf.  Words bubbling in his throat and threatening to spill, mouth hanging open in a snarl yet the mage seemed entirely too calm.

****

“What is this-”  He began, his tattoos a bright contrast to the darkness of the clinic and tinting the room around them an ethereal blue.

****

“It’s healing magic.”  The mage supplied, as if that helped any while the hand glowing just as the lyrium etched into his skin neared him, inching closer and closer yet Fenris found he couldn’t move.  No chains of magic binding him but his own will, or perhaps it was the challenge in the abomination’s eyes, daring him to flee, warning him that turning back now would end this, whatever _this_ was.  His breath stuttered in his chest, snarl softening into a ragged gasp as the mage’s hand just barely scathed the surface of his neck, a whimsical tune, melodic and dreary all at once roaring in his mind as his blood rushed in his ears and he shuddered.  His neck tilted to give the mage more room, and he was confused because he hadn't remembered telling himself to do so, but even then he gave more access, a silent plea held in the way he tremored and had yet to flee.

****

“That’s it, just let me.”  The mage encouraged, one hand going to balance his weight as the one glowing blue traced the curve of Fenris’ neck, the tattoos lighting under his fingers and an audible hum zinging through the air.  It was barely heard over the pants Fenris gave, unable to understand the pleasure lining his frame; more so confused by it’s origin.  The mage ( _Andraste’s tits, Fenris!  You’ll die if he doesn’t, stop being stubborn._ ) had used healing magics on him before, yet something differed now.  Not in the caressing motion the man was now using, but instead borne from how Fenris was letting him.  Baring his heart for the mage to see and use as he sees fit and it terrified Fenris how unwilling he was to fight back against the control the mage was little by little inching under his skin.  

****

The hand left his neck to trail over his clothed arm and even through the shirt Fenris felt the mythical warmth seep through, rolling over his flesh as a mother’s lullabye and gentling him.  Body no longer shaking and the abomination kept _speaking_ low and even -- _that’s it, Fenris, you’re fine, just let me do this for you, so beautiful like this_ \--, shifting to let his other hand slip below Fenris’ shirt and the elf hissed as the healing magic struck him low in the gut, igniting his nerves and he bit into his lip.  Shamelessly curled his body to chase the mage’s hand as it trailed up his chest and began to remove his shirt.

****

“Feel’s good, doesn’t it?  Knew it would.”  The mage spoke, leaving the shirt Fenris let off his body without struggle on the floor as he helped the elf stand with him.  Fenris followed easy, body slack as the mage steered him backwards, willing to let the human take him _wherever_ as long as his hands continued roaming his flesh as they went, filling his body with a comfort he had never let himself indulge in and now that he had tasted it he never wanted it to stop.  Lost in the pleasure swathing his mind he barely noticed the wall hitting his back, focused primarily on how the mage loomed over him, honey eyes going dark and feral as they drank in the sight of Fenris giving himself over and letting the man do as he pleases.

****

Fenris shut his eyes against the wild look the mage gave, hands tentatively resting against the feathers on the mage’s coat while the human leaned down, pressing his face into the crook of Fenris’ neck and inhaling softly.  The elf gasped at the sensation, fingers clenching into the feathers and spine curling into the mage’s warm hands.  The abomination pressed gentle kisses along his neck, hands sure as they explored Fenris’ chest and back, one travelling lower to just rest on Fenris’ hip and the warrior jerked into the touch.  Something dangerously close to a moan slipped past his lips, colliding with the floor and the quiet sound seemed to ignite the mage, a sudden desperation in the way his hands roamed, his press of lips no longer chaste as teeth dug into the point of flesh just below Fenris’ jaw, forcing the elf’s head back against the wall as he rode on the waves of pleasure the mage gave him at every turn.

****

“Mage.”  Fenris groaned out, clutching desperately at the abomination’s shoulders while the man poured more healing magic into his hands and spread it throughout Fenris’ body.  He panted, mouth hung open and eyes clenched, unable to face the situation clearly and losing himself in the teeth and tongue and hands of the mage.

****

“Anders.”  The human said, voice rough and Fenris barely heard it over the sound of his own heart thumping wildly.  One hand slipped down the back of Fenris’ pants and the elf let out a choked moan, close to a whimper, and it took a few head spinning moments for Fernis to register what the mage had said.

****

“Wha-” he broke off a moment to catch his breath, “What?”  He asked, mind fogged with heat and the mage pulled back from his neck, eyeing the bruises barely noticeable against the dark skin and bright hue of the tattoos before zoning in on Fenris’ face.  The elf’s eyes were still shut, lips swollen red from the press of Fenris’ own teeth and the mage lifted one hand to his face, gentle as it cupped his cheek and the touch was shocking enough for Fenris to peek one eye open.

****

The mage pulled his hand out of Fenris’ pants, cupping his other cheek and there was something in the way the mage held his face that forcefully dragged Fenris’ eyes open, lidded and bright with arousal.  He nearly shut them once more when faced with the abomination’s own need and want, near mirroring his own but haunted with an almost predatory desire.  One that threatened to swallow him whole if allowed.  Fenris found with shock that he wouldn’t mind so much.

****

“It’s Anders.”  The mage said in a low tone, thumbs swiping below Fenris’ wide eyes before crashing down to press a rough kiss and the elf tensed only a moment, ready to flee because touching, _letting_ the mage touch him, was one thing, but a kiss?  It felt sacred, something too special to give away but under the insistent press of the abomination’s mouth his walls crumpled and he let the mage ( _Anders, his mind supplied_ ) in.

********  
  


**Author's Note:**

> the ending is cripe but you know what eH use your imagination or something


End file.
